More Than A Feeling
by Meana95
Summary: AU Post 9.11. Sam and Dean aren't mad at each other. But what about Dean's new mark? How will it change him? Will Dean be able to face the obstacles that lie ahead of him or will he be consumed by it? M for the Winchester potty-mouth Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Set after 9.11. AU Sam and Dean aren't mad at each other for Gadreel. Cain will play a part. First fanfiction.

Dean was sick of it. Sick of all the fights that he and his brother, always seem to fight. Sick of the bickering, and the guilt, that always seemed to follow. He knew his brother would react this way, but he had to keep his promise that he kept his brother in that church. There was no going back now. He thought as he lounged on the chairs within the bunker of the Men of Letters, the place that Dean now called home. He debated to whether to tell them or not, but he knew how their secrets ended up. Cas's reaction was better but not by much. At least the angel was bitching him out like his little over grown brother was. Instead the nerdy angel had pursed his lips in a thin line of worry for his friend.

Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and while he didn't know the full extent of the effects it may have on him he didn't regret taking it on. Not if it was going to kill that red headed demon bitch queen. He was going to be happy to see her go. Not as happy as Crowley, but close. She was going to pay for what she did to Henry and everyone else. He smirked briefly at the thought, before his mind return to the task at hand. He sighed internally. Time to face Sam's wrath once more.

"-thinking?! You have done some really questionable shit Dean but this! Really?! This takes the cake! Do you even realize what you've done?! Seriously? Do you even know what that mark means or anything? And what the hell are you thinking?! Working with Crowley! How many times has he screwed us over? You're just giving him another chance. My God you're so thick sometimes."

"Sam. Shut up. I know what I was doing. Plus Crowley wants Abaddon died more than anyone else. He knows he's not at the top and that we can't take her down by ourselves. We need as much help as we can get. I know he's going to screw us over again, but when he does, he's going to get my blade through his throat. I did it and I'm doing it because it needs to be done. I mean - hey it can't be worse than what we went through with the trials right?" Dean smiled weakly at his attempt to crack a joke.

Sam winced. "Better not be, or I swear to God I'm going to kill you myself." He mumbled.

Castiel stood up suddenly and strode to Dean. He decided this was the moment to join the conversation.

"Dean. Sam is right. We don't know how this will affect you. We don't know what will happen."

"It'll be fine Cas" Dean waved him off "I know what I'm doing."

"No Dean you don't. You don't know anything about it, do you?" Sam scoffed re-emerging into the argument.

"You know what? It's my decision and it's already made. I realize you guys don't like it, but just go with me on this ok?" Dean's temper flared. He got up and left the room where the two men and the angel were sitting in the men of letters bunker.

Sam blinked and shook his head, shaking his long mane of brown hair. He didn't bother following his brother. He knew he would be back. The oversized man turned his back away from the chair that his brother was occupying just a moment ago and turned to the angel that was taking up residence in their bunker.

"He shouldn't have done that" he muttered more to himself then to the angel.

"He did what he thought needed to be doing." The angel replied. "That's what you Winchester's seem to do. No matter what the effects may be on your health. Taking on this Mark will change your brother. I only worry to what extent. Mentally as well as physically."

"Well geez, Cas, that's not worrisome at all. Thanks." Sam grumbled sarcastically.

Realizing that this was sarcasm Castiel closed his mouth and frowned. He tore his glaze away from the younger Winchester and he looked at the door that his elder friend had gone through.

Dean tore through the doors of the bunker, slammed the doors and began to storm down the hall. He had no idea where he was going. Frankly he didn't care, but he hoped that he would remember the way back to the main rooms. With all that was happening around them, the brothers didn't get a chance to explore the whole bunker. It was huge and yet he found himself in the garage. Walking up to his sleek beloved Impala, Dean decided to do the ultimate thing to calm himself down. Tinker with the engine and give her a tune up. Oil change and a bit of tinkering, that's all. Dean's thoughts had wandered back to the conversation away from the tinkering that as his hands caressed the car's engine. How had his little brother been so forgiving and accepting of what happened with Gadreel and yet slam him for making a decision by himself. He was a grown man. He could think for himself. Hell, he had to think for both of them for a long time, why was it different now?

_**Because your family. You're not supposed to give up on each other. Ever. You told me that yourself. Why are you changing your mind now?**_

Dean dropped the wrench that he had been using. He looked around wildly. Who said that? The man's hands automatically reaching for the pistol that he kept in his waistband.

_**Come on, Dean. Think. Who is able to get into your head?**_

_Like everyone or everything!_

_**Really? I thought my protégé would be better suited then that.**_

_Cain?_

_**There you go! Huh. You're not the brightest crayon are you? Well at least your not the dullest either. **_

_What the hell?! How are you in my head? Get out! Now! _

_**Now, now my young apprentice. You think I would let you go that easily? 'Fraid not. There is much you have to learn, and how do you think you will defeat Abaddon and your other enemies when you do not even know how to control your new abilities?**_

_I-I have abilities?_

_**As this young generation would say- Duh! So guess who is going to be your teacher through all of this. Here's a hint – it's not your angel and he can talk in your head.**_

_So what? You're the Yoda to my Jedi?_

_**In a matter of speaking, yes.**_

_Awesome, my day just seems to be getting better and better. Why are you helping me?_

_**I like to think of it as a way to look for redemption, even though I know that it won't be granted from me, perhaps I can save your soul from hell and spare you the pain. I know you've been through enough, but know that it will get worse before it gets better.**_

Ugh. Dean rolled his eyes. _Of course it will. When is it ever easy?_

_**Shall we begin?**_

_**A/N: Bold italicized is Cain's thoughts to Dean. **__Regular is Dean's thoughts. _

Read and Review. This is my first story. I will update as often as I can. Thanks for reading ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**CH. 2**

When Dean reached his room he was exhausted. Cain had spent hours with him in his head, mostly just lecturing. Soon he had Dean thinking about different scenarios in which to handle a blade and the best way to kill, he even brought back a few memories on torture and showed him a new skill set in torture as well. Dean closed his eyes. He felt sleep creep onto him, but was awoken when he heard a light knock at his door. Damn.

"Yup," He said sleepily, trying to shake his head and clear the fog of drowsiness from his head. "I'm up. I mean, come in."

"Hey," Sam poked his head around the door, quickly scanning the room before his eyes focused in on Dean. His brother looked dead beat tired. "Whoa, what happened to you? Drink too much or something?" he asked jokingly. In actuality he had come to apologize to his brother. Dean was smart; he knew what he was doing, even if he was a self-sacrificing douche-bag sometimes. But who was he to talk. God he could be a hypocrite sometimes. Sam stepped into the room and sat at the edge of his brother's bed.

"Ha. Ha. No, I was working on the Impala." Dean told him truthfully, moving over to make room for his brother at the edge of his bed. He was debating on telling him about the 'voice' in his head. Meh, may as well kill two birds with one stone. "I was also training with Cain."

Sam's eyebrows lifted so high they disappeared under his hair. "You, what?" Thinking he have may have misheard. How could his brother train with Cain? Did he bring him here?

"I was training with Cain. Mentally. Not physically. He's not here, Sam." Dean explained quickly.

This confused Sam even more. He turned to look his brother straight in the eyes. "Dean, are you ok? How can you hear him?" He started worrying. What if this thing was affecting his brother mentally? Making him go crazy? Oh, geez, this was not good.

"He's connected to me through the Mark. Geez, Sammy, calm down. I'm not going crazy. I know crazy. Hell, crazy is all we do. But this, this actually makes sense. I mean, he's the original bearer, so it _is_ his Mark technically. He says he just wants to help us. I know he wants Abaddon dead, but he can't kill her himself. Says he needs to train me if I wanna beat her. I will beat that crazy bitch, and we need all the help we can get." Dean pointed out.

Sam nodded. That made sense. But he didn't like it. What if Cain started controlling Dean? He was a knight of hell.

Dean, sensing his brother's discomfort, shook his head. "He's not controlling me, Sam."

Once again, the eyebrows raised, "So what, can you read minds now too?" he asked jokingly.

Dean shrugged, but smiled, "Nah, Sammy. It's just easy to read you." The tired Winchester leaned back into his bed, and kicked his brother off. "Now get out. I'm tired."

"Wait, Dean. While you were out, I think I found a case. You want in?" Sam asked

"What is it?" Dean sat up again, curious.

"Well, get this. This one guy, Stephen Underrover, 18, star of his high school swim team, suddenly drowns, in, get this, his shower. The next vic, Penelope Emilson, 28, professional chef at a fancy restaurant, burns to death after her apron caught fire at a charity event. The most recent victim was a Lucas O'Riley, 36, he was a cop and he," Sam smiles, "Choked to death on a donut."

Dean chuckles deeply. "Sounds witchy. Funny, but witchy, nonetheless. What do all these guys have in common?"

"No idea. Apart from their strange deaths, they all lived in the same neighborhood. Mesquite, Nevada." Sam provided helpfully.

"Alright, we'll head out first thing. It's a long drive so I'm gunna get some sleep." Dean said rolling over, dismissing his little brother.

"One more thing. Cas is coming too." Sam says and slips out of the room.

"What?" Dean looks sharply at the disappearing figure. He frowns.

Awesome.

Dean was packing up the car when the scar on his forearm started tingling. He glanced up and saw his angel friend walk into the garage, staring intently at Dean. He shifted his attention back to the task at hand.

"You know, Cas, it's creepy when you stare like that." He told his socially awkward friend.

Castiel's gaze seemed to harden first and then it dropped. "Sorry." He mumbled.

"Ya, sure. You ready to go?" He asked.

" I ride-"

"No. Sam's shotgun." Dean knew this question was coming. He cut off his friend before he could ask.

Just then Sam walked in with his duffel, threw it in the trunk and open the passenger door, before he looked at Dean.

"You okay to drive Dean?" Sam asked

"O'course. Why wouldn't I be?" Dean demanded, angry his brother would even mentionally him not driving his Baby.

"I just thought that if Cain starts talking to you again that-"

"Cain is talking to you? How?" Cas cut Sam off.

"He's connected to me through the Mark. He's just helping out. We spoke again today. He's actually pointing out a lot to me. And no, Sam, before you say anything, he did not wear me out this time. We just talked, mostly." Dean explained.

Cas nodded thoughtfully and climbed into the back seat behind Sam. Dean closed the trunk and walked to the driver's seat of his baby and looked up at Sam as he pulled out his keys from his pocket. Sam was giving him a hard look.

"What?" Dean asked, confused by the look.

Sam just shook his head and folded himself into the car. Dean followed suit.

When they finally arrived in Mesquite, Nevada, the first thing they did was pull into the near motel, which turned out to be a desert-themed one-night stand type of place. They took a room with two king beds and ordered a cot for Cas, who said he didn't need to sleep. The trio reached their room and immediately set to work on their latest case. Sam pulled out his laptop while Dean went to the police station to gather more information, taking the fallen angel with him.

Dean and Cas quickly reached the police station. It wasn't a very far drive from where they were staying. Before heading into the cop shop, Dean handed Cas a fake FBI badge. They walked in and flashed their fake ID's.

"Agent's Stinson and Mosby. We're looking into the death of Officer O'Riley." Dean said gruffly.

The young officer looked up from the front desk, eyes wide. "Uh. Wha- What can I do for you gentlemen?" The man asks, flustered to be approached by the FBI.

"We need to see the files that you have on the death of Officer O'Riley." Dean repeats.

"I thought he choked on his food." The young officer frowns.

"We need to make sure. Some people may not believe that it was an accident." Dean says cryptically.

"Are you saying that it wasn't an accident?" The officer looks up at the two towering agents that stood before him.

"It may be a possibility." The taller one says.

The young man nods. "Follow me, gentlemen."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Disclaimer. All rights belong to Eric Kripke and the CW network. **

An angel and the weathered hunter followed the young officer further into the Mesquite police station. He turned around and said, "I'm Deputy Rory Keith, by the way."

Dean dipped his head in acknowledgement. Cas just kept marching like the soldier that he was created to be. Deputy Keith left the duo in the empty office of an inspector on the force that had clearly not been to work in a few days. Or, at least, not in his office. They were assured that the inspector would not be back for a few days: he had taken his family to the Mediterranean for two weeks.

Deputy Keith left the two impersonators in the office, closing the door behind him. Dean started flipping through the O'Riley case, comparing it to the other files being searched by Cas. After comparing notes for a few moments, Dean decided to take their notes back to Sam and compare them in front of his brother. Dean just didn't feel like explaining everything over to Sam. It would be easier of they got all the same information all in one go.

As they pulled into the motel parking lot, Dean began getting a headache. It seemed to get worse as they walked into the room. By the time he had gotten to his bed his ears were ringing and it felt as though someone was giving him a lobotomy with an icepick. Dean stumbled over to his bag and grabbed the pain killer's that they always had on hand. He promptly, poured a couple into his hand them into his mouth and took a long swing of the beer that he had been handed by his brother when he walked in. As he sat down, closed his eyes and waited for the pills to take effect he felt two sets of eyes on him. He looked up and saw the worried expression of his little brother and the unreadable expression of the angel who was like a brother.

"I'm fine," he said as he waved off his brother's tense face. "Just a headache."

Sam's face morphed to a light bitch face. Sam knew his brother was lying to him, but he couldn't force the truth out of Dean. He really hated it when his older brother did that. So he settled.

"Right. You're fine and I'm a Belieber." Sam said sarcastically

"A what?" Dean asked

"A Belieb- never mind. Nobody. " He shook his head at Dean's lack of knowledge of pop culture. At least it was nowhere near Castiel's level. Well, it was Justin Beiber. Actually, maybe he was better off not knowing.

Cas was still staring at Dean.

"Cas! What did I tell you about staring at me?" Dean demanded

"That it made you feel uncomfortable." Cas frowned and tilted his head slightly to the side.

"So why are you still doing it?" Dean growled

"Because it seems... as if you are changing." the perplexed angel replied.

"Changing?" Dean's tone changed from one of annoyance to confusion. "How?"

"I do not know. It almost looks like your soul is changing. But that isn't possible," Cas answered

"Geez, Cas. Thanks. That's not unsettling at all." came the murmured reply.

**_Change isn't always a bad thing, young one._**

Dean jumped at the sound of Cain's voice in his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head.

"Dammit Cain." he muttered.

"Cain? Where?" Cas's attention briefly left Dean as he glanced around the room.

"No Cas not here. Here." Dean said as he pointed to his head.

Puzzled, Cas tilted his head slightly once more. He was starting to look like the curious puppy.

_He said my soul looks like it's changing. How is that a good thing?_

**_He said it looks like your soul is changing. He isn't always right you know. But you are changing._**

Dean sighed. Then another more disturbing thought occurred to him.

_How long have you been eavesdropping on us?_

**_Not that long_**. That was a lie. Dean could tell.

_I can tell you're lying. _

Cain was silent.

Dean shook his head and sighed. Sam and Castiel were both looking at him. "He's been eavesdropping on us."

Sam's eyes widened. "How long?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. He just kinda went radio silent when I asked him."

"Try demanding it from him. And ask him what that headache was? Do you still have it?" Castiel pressed

Dean nodded, wincing from the pain that was coming from his head. "Yeah it's still there. I don't get it. I took painkillers. They should be working, but instead it's just getting worse."

_Cain?_

**_Dean, I have only been paying attention to ensure that you don't need assistance_**

_ I have an angel on my side. What else do I need right now?_

**_ You seem to forget that your angel's wings have been clipped. _**

_Well Crowley's still on my team… at least for now. _

**_Crowley? That pathetic excuse for a demon? Haha. He will only help you to the point that it will help himself. When he feels that he is in danger, that pathetic bastard will hang you out to dry faster than you can blink. He won't help you._**

_That's true, but he still wants Abaddon dead as much as anyone else here. _

**_Why else would you be on the same side as him if not to kill that hag?_**

_Well don't worry. When I'm finished with her, he's going to be my next target. I'm so done with his bullshit. _

**_Good._**

_Now, what about my headaches? Do you know why I'm getting them and why nothing I take is helping me get rid of them?_

**_Hmmmm. I have a theory. But I would have to look into it further. Perhaps we should meet in person and we will be able to come up with a valid conclusion._**

_Well, we're in Mesquite, Nevada right now, working on a witch case. When we're done we can meet in Kansas and we will be able to discuss this further._

**_ Any specific part of Kansas? Perhaps your bunker or your hometown? Whichever you are more comfortable with._**

Dean felt slightly uncomfortable that Cain knew about the bunker as well as Lawrence. It was creepy to know that he was in his head, yet real at the same time. Geez, this was not helping his headache at all.

_Smith Center, that's where we'll meet. There's a small diner there, _Pete's Place_, we'll meet there. I don't trust you yet. Sam and Cas doesn't even know you. _

**_Ok. I will be there, sundown tomorrow._**

_We will be there too. If we can get this witchy business sorted out by then. And until then stay out of my head!_

Dean ignored the amusement he felt through the "connection" with Cain, and returned his attention to what was in front of him. What he seen, was not something that he expected.

* * *

Sam and Cas watched as Dean's eyes glazed over. Sam walked over to his brother and waved his hand, in front of his brother's eyes; Dean blinked but did not react. Sam walked back to his chair and slouched. His brother was always alert but didn't react. His brother somehow knew when they were threatened or not. He was growing more and more worried about Dean. First, the idiot decides to side with Crowley, and take on the bloody Mark of Cain, and then there was the whole "Cain's-in-my-head thing but it's cool" and now the soul-changing part. Great. Nothing was simple with them though, was it? Like, ever. They never seemed to catch a break and just when they think they did, they would get caught with their pants down and got royally screwed. But hey, at least they made it this far, right? Right, and all it took was a couple of demon deals, a few trips to hell, heaven, and purgatory for that matter. Oh, and there was that thing of everyone else around them dying. Okay, that last one wasn't completely their fault. They knew the consequences and they took them.

Sam settled into his chair and ran his hand through his brown locks of hair, enjoying the feel of the long hair through his fingers. He glanced back at his computer screen and frowned. He glanced at all of the victim's houses. They seemed to surround one house on that street. One registered to a Lindsay Losenger. Sam pulled up any and all files that he could find on her. He even went as far as to pull up her Facebook page. He skimmed through all the documents scattered in front of him. Something that caught his eye was the fact that she liked a page called "Hecate's Malus Magicis Sororum". Sam scoffed. _Can you be more obvious_? As Sam kept looking he found that she worked at the local car dealership as the main receptionist, and that she owned a small acreage just a few miles outside of town. This was something worth looking into. He looked up at Cas, who was still intently staring at Dean. He cleared his throat. Cas slowly turned and looked at him. It seemed that Cas's frown was permanently etched on his face.

"I think I found something on the witch" Sam said slowly.

Cas stood up and strolled to where the youngest Winchester was sitting. "What is it?"

"Well, actually, more than one thing. More like everything." He relayed all the information he found, to the angel, whose frown deepened. _How is that even possible?_

"Do you know where she is now?" The angel asked.

"Well," Sam began, "It's after 4, so she wouldn't be at work. According to the land records, there's nothing on that land except an old abandoned barn, so I guess that would leave her house," Sam finished, proud of his skills of deduction. He stood up.

"So, we stake out her house, right?" Cas asked slowly

"Yup."

Cas looked backed at Dean. Sam shook his head. "He'll be fine, Cas. I'll leave him a note saying what we're doing and where to find us."

Cas begrudgingly agreed and left with Sam.

* * *

Dean wasn't expecting to be left alone in the motel room. He had been anticipatng a lot of questions from both parties. Instead there was no one in the room. Dean looked around again. _Seriously, where are those two?_ Dean got off the bed and checked out the table where Sam's laptop lay. It was open to some redhead chick named Lindsay Losenger. He read what Sam found on her.

"Shit. Sammy. Dammit," he muttered. Dean grabbed his jacket and ran out the door. He remembered seeing that chick staring at Cas and him at the police station. How could he not notice that 'til now? How could Cas not notice? Or if he did, why didn't he say anything? Cas could put his little brother in danger, and there was no way he was letting anything happen to him. He'd gone through hell for him, literally, and he would do it again if it meant saving the last family he had. Of course, Dean did consider Cas family, but the idea that Sammy's protection comes first had been so firmly ingrained in him by his father that it had stuck with him right through it all and probably would for the rest of their hellish lives.

Dean found the address to the witch's house and stole the first car that wasn't on the same block as the motel, so that no one would get suspicious of him. The car was a 1970 Pontiac GTO that may have been a beautiful car in its prime, but it was obvious that the car had been neglected over the years. Several rust spots decorated the exterior of the once champagne colored car. When Dean tried starting it, she turned over several times before the engine caught on. Dean shook his head. With the right care this car could have still been a classic. Too bad some asshole couldn't take care of it, but Dean wasn't about to start: he had somewhere to be. Thankfully, this car still ran and would get Dean to his destination.

When the hunter got to close enough to the street that the witch lived on he ditched the car, carefully wiping down everything that he had touched. He crept close enough to where he could clearly see his car and the two silhouettes that sat in the driver's and passenger's seats. As he stalked forward he could sense something was off. Dean looked around at his setting, making sure no one had or could see him. Not a soul (no pun intended) was in sight. As Dean got closer and closer, the feeling grew more and more. It was like there was a pit in his stomach and by the time he reached his beloved car, it was enveloping his whole chest. He glanced inside the car to make sure his brother and his angel were okay. What he seen nearly stopped his heart, or sent it racing. He couldn't tell, what he could tell, was that they were in deep trouble.

* * *

The redheaded witch laughed; it was unnaturally high and sickly sweet. She had caught herself one of hell's most wanted men and heaven's most wanted angel. Oh, it was Christmas, in her eyes at least. She had seen the two beings drive up in that old car that was still somehow running. Not that she cared about cars. As long as her car was pretty, new and it got her from point A to point B, the witch couldn't care less. The witch wasn't actually who the two hunters thought she was, no. She had killed that stupid, whiny little thing that had been her sister. God, she had been annoying. Good thing she was her twin though: Kristen Losenger quickly took her sister's place. She had killed all those people for good reasons though. That boy next door was a disgusting little pervert, who had pictures of her and was trying his best to get in her pants. The lady across the street was just as annoying with her wannabe friendly neighbor act but was actually a nag who gossiped about everyone, who became interested in 'Kristen's' 'hobbies' of witchcraft but turned into a backstabbing bitch of a witch. Finally, that cop. He was almost as bad as that boy, constantly coming by trying to flirt with her. She knew full well that he had a wife and two kids in that house across the street; there was no way that she was going to go out with him, even if he was single.

But none of that mattered now. She had a Winchester on her hands and it was only a matter of time before she had the full set. Ms. Losenger would be handsomely rewarded for all three of the men that she would soon have in her grasp. She sat back and was wondering at the rewards she would reap from her prizes when she felt the detection spell around the Winchester car go off. She leaned back again, smiling as she twirled her bright orange hair between her index fingers and thumbs as she looked at the unconscious, gagged, and bound men that lay at her feet on the cement floor of her basement. The last player had finally joined the game.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait for an update. Please read and review. Thanks **


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 4

Dean sidled along the side of Kristen Losenger's house. He had his pistol drawn. He knew the witch had taken his brother and his best living friend. If she thought she was going to make it out of this thing alive, she had another thing coming. As Dean rounded the corner of the house, he glanced behind him, hoping that no one had seen him and that no one could see him as he disappeared behind the house. Gripping his pistol, he inspected the back of the house. It looked like an average suburban house. It had several entrance points, from the back door to several windows to a cellar door.

The weary hunter had quickly deduced that this woman had wanted to keep up appearances so her altar would probably not be in plain sight. He sighed as his glaze fell to the cellar door. It had a large lock on it, but it was not something that would be hard to pick. Dean slipped on the safety of his gun and slipped it into his waistband, where he would be able to reach it quickly, and removed his lock pick and set to work on the lock that was surely going to take a maximum of one minute to pick. The lock had quickly given way to the expert lock picker, as he swung the wooden doors open. As he peaked in, he had seen a dark stairway with a sketchy looking light at the bottom that only showed a dirty cement floor. Dean quickly put away his lock picks and removed his pistol from his waist line once more, flicking the safety off, he began a slow descent down the stair, moving silently and cautiously as a man with military training would.

When Dean was two-thirds of the way down the stairs the light began flickering. His internal alarms started blaring. _Great, the last thing I need right now is a spirit or a demon on my ass. _

He gripped the pistol and tentatively began moving through the sparsely lit basement. Dean searched the darkness and listened for any indication that the witch was coming down the stairs. Suddenly he heard some rustling in the far corner. He raised his pistol and approached the area where the sound had come from. It was someone under a big tarp. As he lifted the corner of the tarp and pulled it away, an elongated leg came up and nearly kicked him in the face. Dean had barely avoided being kicked before he whispered, "Hey, watch it I'm here to help you, dumbass."

"Dmm?" came a muffled response

"Sammy?"

"Dmm!"

"Dude! What happened? Hold on, I'll get you outta here." Dean whispered

"Dmm!" Sam tried to warn his brother as an iron rod came down and knocked him out and then moved back towards Sam. As it came down at him, Sam slipped into unconsciousness once more.

Dean woke up to see bright red hair. His immediate thoughts were that Abaddon had found them. Then he remembered the witch. He tried to reach for his knife that he kept at within the folds of his jacket, but found that his hands were tied. Literally. Dean tried to test his restraints, and found the rope held him in place quite well. Damn, this chick really knew how to tie a knot. He tried again, as she turned to face him. _ She'd be kinda hot if it wasn't for the fact that she's an evil bitch. _

"So what now?" Dean asked, "You got us."

The witch leaned in close to Dean and began tracing his face with her nail, and smiled. "You're right. I have you right where I want you. But I know someone who would love to have you. In fact, she would kill for the full set of the Winchester hunting boys and company." She nodded to the lump where Castiel lay. "So I'm going to get top dollar for you." She smiled cruelly as she stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make." With that Ms. Lozenges left the room and the light went out.

"I do not believe that is a good sign," Cas mumbled from the corner.

As Kristen shut the door to the basement, she thought of all the things that awaited her after she handed these three to Abaddon. What rewards she would reap. She would be a queen among mortals and her power would grow until no one would dare to challenge her. Pity these boys wouldn't be able to see their world burn. No matter though, it was a small sacrifice in her quest for larger things in the world. She smiled and turned to the kitchen to contact Abaddon. It was time to get this started.

Dean tested his bonds once more before laying his head back on the wooden beam that held up the house that was above him. He looked towards where he had last seen Sam. Damn, he couldn't see anything in this darkness. "Sammy, you ok?" he asked

"Mm" came the reply and a couple of grunts followed by a real response, "Yeah. Sorry, Dean I should have seen it coming."

"It's not your fault Sam. Nothing you could have done." Cas said attempting to calm his partner down.

"Well, there is but it's too late now. We gotta get the drop on this witch before she calls Ababitch to have a slaughter fest with a Winchester and an ex-angel special. Can either of you two get out of these damned ropes?" Dean said. He was starting to get pissed off. Why did they always end up on the grill like this?

"'Ello boys. Looks like you're a bit tied up," an English accent quipped.

"Crowley! What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be searching for the blade?" Dean demanded

"Well, you see with it being that cold and damp , you can only take so much before it's time for a break," an audible snapping of the fingers could be heard and the light in the center of the room flickered to life. Underneath stood Crowley, with a bottle of scotch in one hand and a half empty glass in another. "I thought I deserved a break." He smiled as he took a sip of his scotch

Dean could almost hear Sam roll his eyes. "So, what? You decide to come and check out your'Golden boy'?"

"Shut up Sam!" Dean growled.

Crowley lowered his glass, and looked at Sam. "I can always just leave you here Moose, and just take Squirrel, there with me." As he nodded at Dean

"You can, but you wouldn't." Castiel piped in.

Crowley turned to the fallen angel. "Oh, look a talking penguin. Although," Crowley said thoughtfully, "You're right. If I did, Dean would bitch and complain about it and then probably stab me as soon as he finished. So," Crowley snapped his fingers and the trios bonds fell away. "Don't say I never do anything for you." He smirked again and disappeared.

Dean rubbed his half-raw wrists as he stood up front the concrete floor and looked at the other two men standing up. He found their weapons in a basket on an old filing cabinet that may have been a good hiding place for some kids or the short witch. The Marked man returned the weapons to his brother and best friend.

"Alright. Let's go kill a witch." Dean grinned and began to formulate a plan.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry it's been a while since I've updated. But I'm Back and hopefully be able to update soon. Anyways read, and review. It really is appreciated and will probably keep me motivated.

Dean slowly climbed the stairs that led out of the dark basement, shadowed by Castiel. Dean gripped his pistol as he silently opened the wooden door that led to the rest of the house. He took a cautious step onto the main floor, testing his weight, not trusting the old wood not to creak. When it did he instantly scanned the immediate vicinity for the red headed witch. Motioning Cas to follow him, Dean sidestepped along the wall out of the stairwell. Using the silent militarist sign language that he had picked up from his father, Dean signaled that the duo split up so that they would be able to cover more ground. He then gave Cas a look that clearly said not to get caught unaware again. Cas nodded and inched around the corner to begin his search that witch who needed to be stopped.

Sam made his way around the house, his mind on full alert. He had managed to escape through the same door that Dean had used to sneak into the house – look how well that had worked out for him. Sam shook his head: they were getting slow. All three of them captured? Really? He quickly focused back on the task in front of him. That kind of wandering mind was what had gotten Cas and himself caught in the first place. Sam reached for the doorknob to enter the house – then stopped. An odd shape in the shadows of the rose bush that lined the fence caught his eye. The giant man's curiosity had been piqued and he timidly approached the strange shadow. He squinted as he reached it, bending down to get a better look. His hand stretched out, brushing against what felt like wet fur. Sam lifted his hand into better light to look at it – it was covered in blood. He frowned and brought it closer to his face, curling his nose at the smell. It was a dead cat, and a black one at that. _This has witchy magic written all over it_. He dropped the corpse back into the bush and quickly made his way back to the house. Cas and Dean would need backup, and as soon as possible.

Dean roamed the top level of Kirsten's home, and so far he had found nothing. It had looked like a regular, suburban, apple-pie home. But it wasn't. Not even close. Hell, he had experienced it. He looked around it was apparent that nothing seemed like it was out of the ordinary, but if you scratched the surface you would find the dirt underneath. After going through all the rooms on the upper level, Dean started rustling through all the witch's things, thinking that he maybe be able to find a spell book, old grimoire or book of spells that was giving this witch the juice that she had. Since she was still on the main level he didn't want to ruin the surprise for the witch when she had found out that her prizes had escaped. He smirked, and dug deeper into his search.

Castiel had scoured the kitchen and dining rooms but had yet to find anything. The house was clean, but strangely so. As if it had never been touched. Perhaps this witch was that good, but he doubted it. He didn't like when she said she had a phone call to make. It was worrying. To whom? The authorities? Metatron? Abaddon? None of those options were very good. The final being the least, not knowing the full extent of the knights of hell, then the angel could very well be in as much danger as his two friends. Although, Castiel did know that if it came down to a full on fight, he would gladly stand beside the two humans he called friends and fight with them, right up until his final breath.

As he was about to go around the corner and search the next room he heard Sam slowly and cautiously enter the house. Cas nodded to the moose of a man and stepped into the living room. Ms. Lozenges was lounging on her sofa with her back towards him, doing her nails of all things. He snuck up behind her and firmly pressed his angel blade against her neck.

"Surrender" he hissed, "and maybe you'll be spared."

The witch laughed, still focused on filing her nails. "Surrender? Now why would I want to do something like that? You, my pets, cannot leave until a demon enters this house."

"Well, that was a stupid plan. It really didn't make a difference, sacrificed cat or not." Sam said as he stormed into the room to back up his friend, "Plus, I think you may have missed one minor detail." He added as he began tying her up

"What would that be? And how did you get out?" she scowled, her nails curling into her palm.

"Did you forget that not _all_ demons are backing up Abaddon? Some are trying to oppose her." Sam smirked.

The witch let out a string of curses that would have any grandmother rolling in her grave and began fighting against Sam as he tried to tie her up, as well as Castiel who was trying to restrain her. But Kirsten was having none of it. _How is she stronger than an angel and a man and a half? _ Cas wondered absently as he was trying not to harm her in their struggle.

Dean had gone through several family albums, heirlooms, and other various things but could not find the witch's recipe book anywhere. Suddenly, he could hear his brother's voice booming downstairs, he smiled and was glad that he made it back inside the house without drawing too much attention… Wait. He could hear his brothers voice? Well, that sure as hell meant that the witch could too. Shit. Was his baby brother in trouble again? He jumped over the pile he'd made, and turned around so quickly he almost ran into the door. Dean slowed down his brother had an angel with him and it would be embarrassing if he got knocked out a second time that night and by a door no less. He found his way down to the stairs and put on a bit of speed so that he would be able to back them up if necessary. Dean heard the scuffle as he stepped off the stairs he ran to the source. What he found was Cas and Sam barely able to hold on to a wriggling witch.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his rag that he always carried and the bottle of chloroform that he had found in the bathroom. He applied some to the fabric and rushed to his friend's side and covered her mouth and her nose with it. She continued to struggle for another moment and then slowly went limp on the couch. Sam looked up at his brother and gave him his patented annoyed bitch-face.

"Dude, what took you so long?"

"Shaddup Sammy."


	6. Chapter 6

Ch.6

The three men stood over the witch, deciding what they wanted to do with her.

"Kill her!" Dean said angrily

"No." Sam argued, and sighed when he was met with a look of confusion. "Look Dean, we don't want to kill her yet. We need answers and we sure as hell are not going to get them if she's dead."

Castiel, who stood off to the side of the witch, nodded. "He's right Dean. We need her, at least for now."

Dean sighed, and looked down at the witch then back to his brothers-in-arms. "Well then, I get to do the questioning."

"Dean-" Sam started protesting

"No, Sammy this is not debatable. I've seen what she can do, and I fully intend and I fully intend for her to learn what happens when you mess with my family," Dean growled. "Yes, you too, Cas" he added offhand, throwing him a quick smirk before returning his glare to the witch. He didn't notice the worried look that Sam and Cas shared.

As she began to stir, Kristen began to notice the things that were going on around her. Like the three giant men glaring down at her and the fact that she was tied to a chair. She studied each of their expressions before returning her gaze to the bindings that were restraining her limbs. Kristen glared at the thick ropes that kept her arms tied to the arms of the chair. Below her, she could feel the rope, binding her ankles together beginning to chaff against her skin

"Well, look who finally decided to join the party," said a playful voice. The face on the eldest Winchester was anything but playful: it was downright terrifying. "Hope you don't mind that we helped ourselves to your kitchen." He shifted his stance to show her coffee table. Her glass topped coffee table was lined with several shiny objects. Upon closer inspection, Kristen recognized familiar shapes. She saw several knives, a vial of an unidentified liquid, and a hot plate? Why did they..? Oh no.

Dean saw the light bulb go off in the witch's head when she saw all of his instruments. He smiled manically. Sam gave him a look. Dean returned it: they went over this already. Cas glanced briefly in his direction before continuing his scrutinizing glare at the witch.

"You're going to answer our questions. Nice and clearly. Now, Sam here is going to take this rag out of your mouth. Don't bother to scream. It won't help you anyway." Dean said casually as he began inspecting his new tools.

Sam stepped forward and removed the gag that was in Kristen's mouth.

"There. Did you call Abaddon?" Sam asked

The redhead said nothing. Sam raised an eyebrow, and leaned down to the witch and whispered, "If you don't say something, my brother is going to bring out his dark side. It's not something that I can pull him back from easily. I'd suggest for your sake, you better answer the questions. I'm sorry."

She kept mum.

Dean picked up a steak knife and looked at it appreciatively, then back to the woman that was bound in front of him.

"This isn't quite what I'm used to but I guess I'll have to make do" as he took a step toward her, "if there was one thing I was while I was in the pit under Alastair, it was creative."

Sam diverted his eyes as his brother made the poor girl scream out.

"Ok! I called Abaddon." She choked out.

Dean nodded as he stepped away from her.

_You know you don't need to make her feel physical pain in order to make her talk._

Dean growled, Kristen looked fearfully at him. Sam and Castiel both looked at him puzzled. With his back towards Kristen he subtly gestured to his head and arm, hoping to send the correct message across to his brother and his comrade.

_Probably not, but it's the quickest way to make her talk. _

_Yes, but it's also the more costing on you as well._

_What do you mean, costing on me? I'm fine I used to tor-_

_Torture people in hell, yes I know. Touchy subject, I'm afraid. It's wearing you out mentally, I can feel it. You may have enjoyed this while you were in hell, but not anymore. You don't like drawing out blood like this. _

_Maybe not, but what other choice do I have?_

_Did you try threating her?_

Dean looked back at his hostage who was still staring at him but not with fear anymore, he sighed. _Yes._

_Did that work?_

_Oh yes. She sang like a bird, that's why I'm resorting to this now._

_Well, no need to get snippy with me boy._

_Why are you wondering if you can watch what happens anyway?_

_I want you to figure it out yourself._

_Figure out what?_

_My, my you really aren't the sharpest pencil on the desk. _

_Get to the point Cain. I'm a little tied up here. _

_Try a different way. Instead of using a knife and carving out some answers. Try a different way. _

_Like What?!_

_Try using the Mark. Add a bit of power to your voice. _

_And if that doesn't work?_

_Then you can make her endure the worst pain she has ever felt, in one simple touch._

_Like an angel can?_

_No, an angel can simply snap its fingers. You have to physically touch the person. But you must think of the worst pain you have ever felt, when you touch her. _

Dean turned around to face his hostage again. "Tell me where is she."

"No" she said as she jutted out her chin.

Dean shook his head and tried to add the power to his voice and tried again "_Tell_ me where Abaddon is"

"I can't," she replied

"Why not?" asked Sam.

"Because," was her only reply.

"Not good enough," Dean said. He set his knife down on the table and made his way back over to her. As he reached out to her, he thought of all the pain that he endured downstairs, all the suffering he went through physically and all the guilt and pain he had to live with because of all the deaths that occurred around him. Just as he was about to touch her with his hand, Cas grabbed his arm and promptly fell to the ground writhing in pain. Dean quickly drew his arm back from his friend and allowed all the memories to fade back into the dark recesses of his mind. Castiel immediately stopped, but seemed out of breath. He looked up at Dean sternly.

"Maybe too much," Dean murmured

_What gave you that impression?_

_Shuddup!_

"Shit! Cas you shouldn't have done that."

"Dean, you nearly knocked me unconscious! How did you do that?" Cas demanded.

"Just got a few suggestions from my friendly neighborhood Yoda." Dean shrugged and held out a hand to the angel, who seemed hesitant to take it.

"I'm fine. I can control it. Look," he touched Kristen on the shoulder, who whelped out. "Dammit, Cain, I can't turn it off!" he whined.

Dean felt amusement through his connection with the teacher.

_I didn't think you would even get it on the first try, but life is full of surprises. _

_How do I turn it off?_

_Stop thinking about painful events?_

_I did! It's not working._

_I'm not going to hold your hand through this. Figure it out yourself._

"Dean?" Sam demanded "Let's get back to the task at hand. We will worry about that later." Sam looked like he wanted to do it now but they both knew that it was going to be taken up in the car later.

Sam turned to the redhead and simply asked "Abaddon?"

"She's on her way, and when she gets here she's going to have the time of her life with you three." She started cackling

Dean touched her again "What about-"

Suddenly a blade was sticking out of Kristen's throat. All three men looked up to see a black-eyed-redneck-wearing demon retracting the blade. "Sorry boys, looks like this interview is over," he said smiling sickenly.


End file.
